


Three Worlds for the Outcasts

by ViaLethe



Series: 3 Sentence Ficathon 2021 [17]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, 3 Sentence Fiction, Crossover Pairings, Edmund and Lucy make brief appearances, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Golden Age (Narnia), Rescue Missions, Reunion Sex, Tashbaan, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/pseuds/ViaLethe
Summary: A collection of 3 sentence Jon Snow/Susan Pevensie ficlets, in Westeros, Narnia, and England.1)Jon and Susan in Westeros, with wolves, white walkers, the Wall, Winterfell, and a Dragon Queen.2)Narnia, in the Golden Age and after, with meddling siblings, daring escapes, and fairytale endings.3)In England, rediscovering one another after the end of all things.
Relationships: Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow
Series: 3 Sentence Ficathon 2021 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191875
Kudos: 3





	1. Three in Westeros

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snacky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snacky/gifts).



> Written for the 2021 3 Sentence Ficathon, for prompts from my beloved Snacky.
> 
> Warning: There is no coherent single story here, nor is there intended to be! Just a series of what-ifs.

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, but I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss / I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs_ **

_Once in Twenty Lifetimes_

_Once_ , he tells himself, the first time he kisses her, driven to the edge of desperation, of wanting too much built up for too long. _Just once_.

Once is never enough, he knows now; now when all his dreams are of black hair and red lips, now when his mouth can’t forget the shape of hers, now when the only thing he wants is worlds away, ephemeral as memory, lingering beyond life.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, all these people think love's for show / but I would die for you in secret_ **

_If You’re Standing With Me_

“Remember, Su,” Ed says, the morning of her hastily-arranged wedding, grasping her hands in his, “you don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to - I’ll help you get away, and damn the Dragon Queen and all of Westeros, if need be.”

Looking over her brother’s shoulder to the rumpled linen of her bed, pristine white in the morning light, giving no evidence of the joining it had borne witness to the night before ( _the way Jon’s hands had moved over her body, worshipping every inch; the way all of him fit so perfectly into all of her, from his face between her thighs to his hands on her breasts, to the hard length of him inside her; the way he had swallowed her gasps and moans and cries, keeping their secrets with his mouth_ ), Susan flushes, rose pink riding high in her cheeks, near to matching the Targaryen red of her gown.

“You’re the best brother I could ask for,” she says, squeezing his hands and kissing his cheek, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat of her face against his, “but I don’t mind a bit, truly - the Queen’s nephew is lovely, once you get to know him,” _and all Narnia will love him as I do, soon enough_ , she vows.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow sometimes I'll hear her when she's sleeping_ **

_Is She Looking Out_

In wolf form, he approaches her ( _Ghost_ approaches her), watches her, guards her, nuzzles at her skirts (for treats), lopes along beside her as she rides on horseback. In wolf form, he knows every scent of her, knows the shape of her body and the form of her gestures, knows the taste of her skin.

In wolf form, he creeps onto her bed at night, settling in with a huff, tucked around the contours of her body; in sleep, Susan curls into him, face a hairsbreadth from the chill of his nose, and murmurs, “Hello, Jon-”

-and miles away, Jon wakes with a surge, heart hammering in his chest, the smell of her still on his hands.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow in the cracks of light / i dreamed of you_ **

_Real Enough to See Me Through_

In dreams, Jon is a wolf, running along the hard-packed ice in Ghost’s borrowed body, infiltrating the camp of these supposed new allies. Their animals he avoids, shrinking into shadows with a whine, his white coat hiding him among the snows, but the humans take no notice of him, until - _she_ locks eyes with him, and gasps, and a hundred miles away, Jon sits up in bed, gasping, sucking air into lungs that feel empty.

Two days later, she is among the company when they arrive at the Wall, and shows no sign of recognition though Jon can’t help but stare; that night, he finds her waiting in his quarters when he retires, and all she says is, “I dreamed of you,” waiting for him to close the narrow gap between them, to confirm with his hands what his spirit already feels - that she _knows_ him, in any form, down to the bones.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, I tried to pick my battles / til the battle picked me_ **

_If Someone Comes at Us, This Time I’m Ready_

“I’m _fine_ ,” she insists, though every breath burns like a hot poker stabbing her through the chest where the great Other’s sword had caught her; Lucy’s cordial is effective at staving off death, but not pain.

“You are not fine,” Jon insists, pushing her shoulders back against the bed as she tries to sit up until she goes limp, stops resisting, “and you aren’t fine because you should have died - what were you even _doing_ on the battlefield?”

Wearily, she stares up at him, wishing she had the strength to kiss him (wishing she had the strength to slap him), but barely having enough just to say, “Because you were there, you idiot, and I wasn’t about to let you face down a monster alone.”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, I'm begging for you to take my hand / wreck my plans, that's my man_ **

_Bent Right to Your Wind_

“Don’t go back to Narnia,” he says, catching hold of her hand as she turns. “I know I have no right to ask it of you, but - don’t go.”

At his side, she turns, hands coming up to thatch themselves into that glorious riot of curls as she says, “It certainly took you long enough to ask,” before pulling his face down to hers.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Any, any/any, breaking vows of chastity_ **

_Save Me, My Love_

“I can’t,” Jon says, hopeless, miserable, breathless, forehead pressed to hers, the white cloud of their breath mingling in the chill of the North.

“Who says you can’t?” Susan asks, her voice low, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her touch so light he shivers helplessly against her before she continues, “I certainly didn’t.”

He can’t remember anymore, he realizes, as she kisses him; as she tugs him inside and he follows, obedient to her pull, and as all her buckles and clasps and laces come undone until she stands bare before him, he finds he no longer cares, either.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, what must it be like / to grow up that beautiful?_ **

_Anticipating My Face in a Red Flush_

“Really?” Susan says, blinking, though it’s not the sort of thing a man is likely to be mistaken about, and in her experience, they tend to lie in the opposite direction, if anything; still, she wants to add, _but you’re so pretty, how were all the girls - and boys - not fighting each other for a chance with you?_ , but she has always adroitly avoided missteps, biting her tongue before the words can escape.

“Never,” Jon says, ducking his head. “I couldn’t - I didn’t want to get - I know what it’s like, being a bastard,” he finishes, and _Oh_ , Susan thinks, smiling so the tears that threaten to spring to her eyes recede, saying, “There are ways to avoid that, Jon,” before she kisses him again, long and slow and sweet, adding, “and I’m happy to teach you.”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow and the truth of it is / I wonder am I beautiful enough / for you to kiss me true_ **

_I See the Reasons_

“You’re too good for me,” he says, rough and low, off the back of a kiss so fierce her lips tingle, even as he tugs desperately at the laces of her dress, as the fabric of his shirt catches and rips in her haste to remove it, to reveal more of him to her; even through the hazy fog of lust and heated blood, his words stop her cold.

“Jon,” she says, tipping his chin up until he’s forced to meet her eyes, “has no one ever told you truly how beautiful you are?” Stepping back, she pulls her dress from her shoulders, slow and deliberate; lets it slide down, nudging it past the swell of her hips until she stands bare before him, clothed only in firelight, and reaches for him, letting her body tell him again and again, _you are, you are, you are enough._  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow we may only have tonight / but till the morning sun, you're mine_ **

_All Your Tears Will Subside_

“It’s not morning yet,” she says, though the pale grey outlining the window’s edge makes her a liar. “It’s not, stay with me and let it be night forever.”

Under her, Jon sighs, his hands taking hold of her one last time in perfect balance, neither pushing away nor pulling closer, and says, “Even a Queen can’t keep the sun from rising,” _or a Stark from his duty_ , she thinks, and lets him go.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, I’m your biggest fan_ **

_Begging for You_

“You were magnificent,” he tells her, low and gruff and loving, and very much for her ears only, after he’s watched her play her role as Narnian Ambassador, charming Robyn Arryn, verbally sparring with Olenna Tyrell, and keeping a firm hold on Tyrion Lannister’s typically loquacious tongue.

“That’s Peter’s word,” she says, and laughs, though he doesn’t, only stares at her until her breath catches.

“Not to me, it isn’t.”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, your back / beneath the sun / wishing I could write my name on it_ **

_Still Changing for the Better_

Dorne reminds her of Calormen, with its rolling heat and gold sands, and old memories tug at her mind, of inks and magic and murmured spells practiced and learned in that foreign land.

“What are you doing?” Jon asks her when she applies the first brushstroke to his back as he lies basking in the sun beside the water garden, though he doesn’t move, doesn’t stir a bit, and she can hear the smile in his voice, pulled loose and mellow by the lazy gold of the light.

“Magic,” she says, leaning down to press a kiss into the rise of his shoulder, beside her first glyph, already sinking into his skin as she follows it with more; _protection_ , she draws, over his scars, and _luck_ in the hollow curve of his lower back, and _love_ along his spine, tracing her words into him with fingers and lips both.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow because of you, I'm running out of reasons to cry_ **

_A Drowning of the Past_

“Your sister looks just like you,” she says fondly, watching Arya stalk through the yard below, all long face and brooding glare.

Somehow it doesn’t hurt as much as it ought when he says, “Did yours?” not when his eyes linger on her; not when his hand covers hers, ready to pull her back if she threatens to drown under the weight of her memories.

She thinks of Lucy, bright gold and sunny, of Peter, burnished and solid; she thinks of Ed, all dark glances and dark hair tumbling over his brow, and smiles, tucking back a stubborn lock of her own; when she speaks of her lost brother, Jon’s fingers tighten on hers, in perfect understanding.


	2. Three in Narnia

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow baby I'll call up a storm / keep you safe from harm_ **

_I Can Live With My Regrets_

She’s going to die, Susan realizes - because she would rather do away with herself than be forced in Rabadash’s bed, be forced into the gilded chains that will bind any wife of his; perhaps if she’s dead, she reasons, Ed and the others will be allowed to leave in peace, at the least.

The tiny bottle she’d acquired in the market feels shockingly cold in her hand, the milky substance within far too innocuous, the glass too slick and the cork too tightly bound as her hands tremble in their task - then suddenly there’s a commotion in the passage beyond, shouts, running feet, the door thrown open, a mysterious man all in black - from his turban to the leather of his boots, veiled in the Eastern fashion - snatching up her hand, the bottle falling unheeded to the floor, his voice hot in her ear as he says, “We’re here to rescue you - stay quiet and keep hold of me, my queen.”

Later on - after the confusion in the maze of tunnels below the palace, after her panic (quelled only when she feels Ed’s reassuring hand on her shoulder, hears Corin’s excited voice, the flutter of Sallowpad’s wings, and knows they are all with her) - once they are safely aboard ship and her rescuer has revealed his face, a dozen questions try to escape her lips at once - _Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you know I needed you so?_ \- but only one makes it, a choked and inarticulate, “Why?” to which he smiles at her, a smile all full of heartbreak and tenderness and something else she can’t quite name.

“No woman deserves to be made the slave of that man,” he says, looking down at some point between them; it’s only when she follows his gaze that she realizes her hand is still clutched in his. “Especially you.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she says, tired and confused, the energy of the moment long drained, leaving her wrung out; still, she knows this can’t be let go, not yet, that there’s something important here.

He just smiles at her once more, soft and oddly shy. “Jon Snow, your majesty,” and somehow, nothing seems more natural in the world but that she should reply, “No - you must call me Susan.”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, I won't ask you to wait / if you don't ask me to stay_ **

_Even Though I’m Leaving_

“What is a man like you even doing here?” she muses as they lie together, brushing her fingers across skin too pale for the desert of Calormen, through curls never touched by shine and pomade, over a beard never scented with perfumed oils.

He shrugs, the thick rugs of her tent protecting them from the sands, his dark eyes unfathomable as he watches her every movement as closely as the white falcon he calls Ghost, until she feels the depths of the desolate desert night in them, something otherworldly, tinged with a magic foreign to her homeland, and shivers, knowing this man will never be Narnian; knowing that she will nevertheless always want more, and more.

“Someone must keep the world safe from that which dwells in the high desert,” he murmurs, watching every shudder that passes through her as he draws his fingers, achingly light, up her arm, over her shoulder, down to the hollows of her collarbones, leaving her lightheaded in his wake, open to his kiss, open to the promise in those bottomless eyes, for as long as her sojourn in the desert lasts.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, it's hard to be anywhere these days /when all I want is you_ **

_I Just Wanted You to Know_

“Oh, honestly, Susan,” Lucy says, sounding far more exasperated than a younger sister really has any right to, in Susan’s opinion, “I do quite understand why you’re so taken with him - he is very handsome, and I heard the Otters say the other day that his, well - _assets_ are very-” (“Lucy!” Susan interrupts, but Lucy, being Lucy, continues blithely on-) “-impressive, shockingly so if they’re to be believed, which of course we know they are not, but in this case - what was I saying?”

“I’m sure I don’t have any idea,” Susan bites out, horrified at the petulance in her voice, refusing to so much as glance towards the window, though it does have am exceedingly good view of the training yards, where Peter and Ed appear to have challenged Jon Snow to a mock duel, two against one - and which he appears to be _winning_.

“Ah, yes,” Lucy says, glancing towards the sound of male shouts, “either proposition him or don’t, but for all our sakes, do so soon, before I hear one too many longing sighs and am forced to do so on your behalf!”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow and tell me that we belong together_ **

_I’ll Be Captivated_

“Why me?” she asks; not that she’s ever been one to lack for confidence, but still; he’s broken vows for her, left his homeland for her, renounced his claims on two thrones for her.

Silence stretches until she believes he won’t answer her, eyes focused over the sea, worlds away, but then he turns and smiles, heartbreakingly simple, and says, “You saw me - not just in Ghost, but in every way.”

She smiles, allowing that to pass unremarked (it’s still a point of contention between them, the way she always knows it’s him, in any creature he wargs), waiting out the silence, as she’s so practiced in doing, and she’s rewarded when he continues, “You didn’t see Ned Stark’s bastard, or the Commander of the Watch, or a potential savior of the Seven Kingdoms-”

“-I just saw you,” she finishes for him, and watches as she steals his breath all over again; as he steals hers in turn.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, back when I was living for the hope of it all_ **

_I Never Needed Anything More_

When she opens her eyes to the Narnian sunshine, pooling bright and gold across her face, he’s already awake, watching her with such a fond look that her lips curve of their own accord, murmur, “What is it?” still heavy with sleep, with the langor of a late summer morning in bed with a lover.

“I was just thinking,” Jon says, taking her hand in his, kissing her knuckles lightly before he continues, “of how I used to live every day without hope, pushing on for no other reason than because I had to, because it was my duty.”

“And now?” she asks, eyes clear, her mind brought awake within him, listening to him answer, “Now I have you, and I remember how good hope feels,” before he takes her in his arms, and the day blooms around them.  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, well, if this is fate / then we'll find a way to cheat_ **

_The Answer Isn’t Fair_

“Stay with me instead,” he says; she will remember, later, how perfect it was, the salt breeze from the open balcony, the pale morning sun warm on her skin, the snow white of the linen pooled at her waist, and the delightful things his hands were doing underneath it, touching and teasing until she was slick and hot and ready to agree to anything he asked.

“And miss the stag?” she manages to ask, as he rolls on top of her; as the knock on her door comes and he groans, pulling the sheet up and over them both, making a cocoon of light, a world with only him and her, only the light and the salt, the beauty of him above her and the heat between them; as he murmurs against her ear, “Stay with me, and we’ll make an heir for Narnia.”

“Tell my siblings my husband and I will not join the hunt today,” she calls out, her Queen’s voice a bit more breathless than proper, but good enough; as she hears the door close once more, she takes him in her hand and says, “Now you must make all my wishes come true.”  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow deep as a secret nobody knows_ **

_Mirror What You Want to See_

They say the Gentle Queen was guarded by a faithful knight called the Black Crow, who kept her safe by day, ensuring no harm could ever come to her; they say he was devoted, and loved her well but chastely, for all that he defended her with jealous zeal.

But by night, they say, the Queen had a lover - the White Wolf, who dared creep past the sleeping Crow to steal into the Queen’s bedchamber, giving her stolen joy and pleasure, keeping her warm in his arms until he vanished with the rising of the sun.

Those who are clever, of course, know that the Crow’s eye never overlooked a secret, and think him an accomplice to the secret lovers (but those who are cleverest of all know the truth: that even a Crow by day can be a Wolf by night).  


  


* * *

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow five hundred midnights since have passed / since I held you fast / you were safe at last_ **

_So Young and Tame_

There was something horribly cruel in this, Susan reflects, standing in a dripping schoolgirl uniform in her fourteen year old body on Narnian shores, staring at a sixteen year old Jon Snow - Jon, who she hasn’t seen since falling from the wardrobe onto bruised knees; Jon, who had been her husband in those sweet golden days, a year and a lifetime ago.

They don’t remember how to fit together anymore, not quite, not with these awkward, coltish limbs, not with his face soft and smooth, with hers blurred and rounded, and yet-

 _and yet_.

“Susan,” he breathes against her hair, clinging to her like a lifeline; “We’re home,” she says, and laughs, and does not think of what may come next.


	3. Three in England

**_Prompt: Narnia/ASOIAF, Susan Pevensie/Jon Snow, but it's never too late / to come back to my side_ **

_You’ll Always Know Me_

They had been children together in Narnia (so long ago, she can hardly recall), and then they’d grown up there and continued knowing each other (that, she recalls perfectly well, branded into her skin, seared onto her lips, ruining her forever for any other lover), and then - the stag, and the lamppost, and all the years in between.

And yet, when he touches her - “You haven’t changed,” she marvels, threading her fingers through night dark curls, tracing the sensitive spot where neck meets shoulder (he still shivers), feeling her dead skin remember its reason to feel in the wake of his fingers.

“You have,” he says, breathless, and tips her back onto his rumpled bed, sliding himself neatly between her legs, knees hooked over his shoulders, hands splayed over her thighs as she shudders, his mouth hot against her most sensitive self, “so I suppose I’ll just have to discover you all over again.”


End file.
